Friday, October 31, 2008

11) Why I'm getting red bumps all over my face that itch.Don't have much more to say about that. I cover them with concealer. I just don't know why they're happening.

12) Why Men Insist on Thinking That Mustaches are a Good LookThey're coming back. I haven't seen so many hipsters with mustaches in forever. And they're gross. They're universally unflattering. At best they look ridiculous and at worse they make you look like a creepy child pornographer from the 70s.

13) Why My Weight Shoots Up When I Eat a Cookie but When I Eat Rich, Catered Food For Two Weeks In Napa I Don't Gain a PoundThat one is pretty much self-explanatory. And explained in detail in my previous post.

This week has pretty much been utter hell. I had a massive paper due on Wednesday (15 pages! On how nonprofits get funding!) which led to lots of nights with Minimal Sleep and Maximum Stress. I didn't even have time to think about or work on my Halloween costume until Wednesday night. But work on it I did, to the extent of making a lot of tea to dye a white blouse I bought. Now it's beige and tea-colored. It looks like it's been sitting in someone's attic for a while, which is what I was going for. And that's exactly how much effort I'm putting into this costume.

Don't get me wrong, I like Halloween. I just like it a lot more when I have more time to prepare. And to have some idea of what we're going to do.

Last night Maddy and I went to the apartment of one of the faculty-in-residence for a cookie-decorating contest that his daughter held. We understood the email invitation to say "Come decorate cookies that will then be judged" instead of, correctly, "Bring decorated cookies to be judged." Sooo yeah. We showed up, saw lots of great cookies already made and presented, and were like "OH SHIT." Oh well. The family made us vegetarian chili (for which I want the recipe so bad) and then let us eat the cookies. And eat the cookies I did. I honestly felt sick afterwards (I probably had the equivalent of one big cookie. But I don't think my body is used to that high amount of fat or sugar in one sitting). After eating disgusting amounts, we watched the movie Nadja, which was this crazy black and white art film about vampires on the Lower East Side. Great soundtrack. And it was an ok movie, and even pretty funny if you just accepted what was going on and said "Whatever" to anything that made no fucking sense. There was quite a bit of blood though. And even in black and white, copious amounts of blood tend to make me feel weak and giddy. So there was a lot of me shuddering and looking away from the tv.

Afterwards Sonia texted us and asked if we wanted to go to this warehouse party in Brooklyn. Randomly, I said yes, and we got ready and schlepped to Red Hook. By the time we got there, though, it was full. So we schlepped back and I got to go to sleep. Wooo.

This morning when I woke up I made the mistake of weighing myself for the first time in like over a month. And what a mistake it was. I'm up to 127, which is not good considering the fact that I ought to be getting back down to 123 instead of rocketing ever upwards. I'm hoping it was the cookies from last night, and that with a few weeks of dieting I can get it off. It sucks that I feel like I can gain weight in two days that it takes three weeks to get off. So needless to say, I'm not drinking tonight. Or eating candy, but that's usually pretty easy for me to turn down, as long as it's wrapped. Loose candy in a bowl in front of me, not so easy. It's probably for the best, anyway. I'm going home for a haircut tomorrow, and it'll be nice not to be hungover for once.

Ugh. I feel really gross and low self-esteem now. This is why I hate weighing myself. I used to love it, when I was 118 and I could weigh myself every morning and feel skinny, then not eat for another day and be 118 again the next morning. Now whenever I weigh myself I feel like a whale.

Monday, October 27, 2008

So Halloween is two (three? four? I lose track) days away and until yesterday, I had no idea what I wanted to be. But yesterday Maddy came up with an idea that I really love and know I can get into because it doesn't require me to be scary (I hate being scary) or sexy (I can't be sexy) and it just reminds me of my childhood soooooo

I'm going to be a porcelain doll!

It's really perfect you see, because I can indulge my inclination to look old fashioned all of the time. I found a blouse on the Forever 21 website that's really satiny with puffed sleeves and a scoop neckline so I'm going to get it and dye it sepia colored with tea and then wear a black skirt with a pair of shoes (heels! WITH SPATS) also from Forever 21 (read: cheap and uncomfortable) and wear makeup to make myself look pale and doll-like and it will be wonderful.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

1) The Stock MarketI don't really understand how the stock market works. I do, however, know enough to get ridiculously nervous every time the newspaper says the market has fallen (but what market exactly, I do not know). I know enough to feel comforted when the stock market is doing well. But how the stock market functions is still a bit of a mystery to me.2) Why Whenever I Go Into a Subway Station My Sense of Direction Gets Totally Fucked UpSeriously though. Why do I always feel like the downtown 6 is coming from the wrong direction?3) Girls Who Wear Ugg Boots with Short SkirtsNo one wants to look like a tacky-ass bitch. Take off the Ugg boots. And burn them. Throw Crocs in too, while we're at it. 4) Why No One Wants to Date MeJk, jk, don't want to get into that right now.5) Why Being an East Coast Liberal is Suddenly Such a Terrible Thing

East Coast Liberals are, as a whole, much more sympathetic to Middle Americans than Republicans. Even if we are very far removed from Middle Americans, in terms of religion, distance, and pretty much everything else, our policies are exponentially more beneficial for them than anything Republicans do. Yes, Republicans say they're going to cut taxes. Neat. But when those taxes go away, so do all of the things the government does to help people out. And that's only if those taxes really do get cut. Unfortunately, most middle Americans don't make six figures, which to the Republicans, means they are Unworthy of getting tax cuts. Which leads me to the next thing I don't understand....6) Why Those Who Are Already Well Off Get Rewarded While Those Who Need Help Get Royally FuckedIt happens in so many situations. The multi-millionaires get tax breaks. Non-profit agencies that are financially well-off get donations and grants while struggling ones are passed over. I mean, I do understand that they're viewed as better investments. But it's just not quite fair.7) Why More People In My Life Don't Read Poetry. This is purely selfish: I like poetry. But it's always more fun when you can discuss it with someone.8) People Who Have Over-Emotional Facebook StatusesDo they realize that saying that they are "...sad, heartbroken, and confused" just makes people giggle?9) Why Fashion Is So Damn ExpensiveI want to wear Valentino too!10) CalculusNever did. Never will. Thank god Seipp arbitrarily added 25 to 30 points to my grade every semester in high school or I would probably not be at NYU.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Yesterday wasn't too bad, really. I did an hour of cardio in the morning and actually did things like measure out my pasta and stuff. But today was kind of a disaster. I didn't work out today at all, and then I went to get sushi with Lauren for lunch. And ugh, being on a diet is so frustrating. Cause when I go out for sushi I want to actually eat sushi, right? Not just have a vegetarian maki roll and call it a day. And then tonight I just ate dinner cause I was hungry and then had two and a half bowls of ice cream. It was non fat sugar free ice cream. But still. I ate about 22 points when my limit really should be 19.

Ugh, I'm so bad at dieting this year. I think it boils down to the fact that I don't hate myself nearly as much as I did freshman year. I had a really, really awful experience with a boy during welcome week, which pretty much set off a Why-Am-I-Not-Good-Enough-To-Date cycle which manifested itself in me blaming my weight and dealing with it by working out an hour a day (every day) and eating like 1200 calories. For months. By the end of the year I had lost twenty pounds, yes. But my period stopped for a year afterwards. My hair fell out. I wouldn't leave the dorm room to do fun things because I was afraid I'd eat something. And I still thought I was fat. I felt worthless because I couldn't lose those three pounds to reach 115.

I've honestly always hated when girls obsess about their weight, or call themselves fat or ugly. I honestly think that as long as someone is happy with the way they look and who they are as a person weight doesn't matter at all. I don't like people because they are skinny, and I don't think that other people do either (or at least not anyone that I want to be friends with). So why do I have two sides of my personality like this? Why does one half of me hate the media and the fashion industry for portraying anorexic, drug addicted 14 year olds as the image of womanly perfection while the other half of me berates myself and feels completely unlovable for gaining 7 pounds since freshman year?

I really can't answer that. I know that I've always had hang ups about my weight, even as a child. I don't think I ever thought of myself as fat until two of the boys in my second grade class made a "Fat kids" list and I was on it. Doing ballet for years didn't help either, watching all of these skinny little girls prance around just emphasized the fact that I definitely did not look like them. And then, of course, there was the time that my Nonna told me that I "had a very nice figure, even if [I was] big around the bottom." It's not easy to disregard something your peers say about your weight. It is far, far more difficult than that to disregard something your own grandmother says.

I know I have to somehow get rid of this mindset that I'm only lovable and datable when I'm less than 120 pounds. I have to remind myself that oh hey, I never got asked out that short summer when I was 118 pounds, either. So maybe the reason why boys don't like me isn't my weight. But I honestly really don't know what the real reason is for the fact that I get asked out so, so infrequently. I think I'm nice, and funny, and smart, and I have a cute haircut. I'm a damn good cook. I dress well. Yes, I weight 125 pounds. But I work out five times a week and do yoga. I'm stronger and in better shape than I have been in my entire life. I'm a champion multi-tasker, I can never imagine myself becoming clingy, and I realize everyone needs alone time. I think I'd be an excellent girlfriend.

I like enjoying my life. I hate feeling worthless because I was hungry and ate one apple too many and went over my weight watchers points allotment for the day. I hate constantly thinking about food and all the things I wish I could eat but can't because OMG THE CALORIES. I mean, yeah, the two and half bowls of ice cream probably isn't the best thing. I might stop buying ice cream for good starting tomorrow. But I think the moral of this whole post is that I feel way better about myself this year than I have in a really long time. And I don't know why I still have days and weeks where I still loathe everything about the way I look. Because other than that, I'm totally confident about myself and my abilities. Sometimes I'm a little over-confident, a little too convinced of my own cleverness. I just wish my perception of my looks would catch up to my perception of my abilities. Cause frankly, nothing that I want in life requires me to be skinny. It certainly doesn't require me to develop an eating disorder and a coke addiction.

I think I'm going to sign off on this blog post and go to bed (I have to wake up ridiculously early to drive my mom to work tomorrow so I have a car, then somehow do my homework, get my passport, and get a haircut before 2:00) with a shout out to the Little Anorexic Girl who lives in my head: Shut the Fuck Up and Leave Me the Fuck Alone.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

So after a week during which the Little Anorexic Girl who lives in my head was particularly vindictive, I think I'm going back on a diet. I'm at 125 now, and I want to get back to 121. It seems kind of pointless, but at least it will shut her up for a while. And I think it's a lot healthier/more realistic than trying to get back to 118 (which was when I stopped getting my period and my hair fell out in clumps...yeah not so great), or god forbid, hating myself for not being able to get down to 115.

Anyway, I feel like my jeans haven't been fitting as well as they did a month ago. I got too busy to work out much over the past month and didn't really cut the amount of calories I've been eating to make up for it, and I feel like it shows in my upper arms and my face. It's kind of a drag that my body has gotten so used to being on weight watchers and eating only 19 points a day (About 1500 calories). I'm going to have to cut back to 17 and increase my workouts to 45 minutes. Oh well. I'll just have to get to the gym at 7:30 instead of 8:00.

Friday, October 10, 2008

It's gotten to that time of year again. Around this time no matter how much I'm enjoying my classes, my social life, the city itself, all I want to do is go the fuck home. I think it's something about the air, really. The crispness makes me yearn for the train ride home, admiring the changing leaves bordering the Hudson. I find the metronorth ridiculously and inordinately comforting. Maybe it's the fact that the Hudson River Valley is one of the most beautiful places on earth, and even though I have no real love for my hometown (my love is for the people who live in it and the memories that are set there), I really feel blessed to have grown up in such a picturesque place. But every time the train gets past Yonkers I sigh and turn on either Miles Davis or Nico Muhly (for some reason those two have become my go-to music for train rides) and stare out the window feeling incredibly happy and at peace. It might also be the knowledge that either direction I'm traveling, from Fishkill to New York or vice versa, I'm going home. Because if this year has shown be anything, it is that I feel completely at home in both places.

NYU has really stepped up to the plate this year, giving us an actual Fall Break (Tuesday off! As well as Monday!!!). According to one of the girls in my soc theory class, NYU wants to take the pressure off us due to the wave of college-suicides that usually happens around the country at this time. I wasn't aware of this trend, but hey, if it means I get to go home and do fun outdoorsy stuff (apple picking, anyone? Trip up to Rhinebeck? Cold Spring to sit at the waterfront and drink coffee?) I'm all for taking the stress off.

Thursday, October 9, 2008

So yeah, long time no blog post. I've been ridiculously busy the past few weeks. I've been working every day of the week except wednesday (and weekends), and the past two weeks were the first time I felt slammed by homework. I've also been trying to get to yoga and the gym regularly, which is hard. But I decided this week to start going to 7:00 AM yoga on tuesdays and thursdays. It means I have to wake up at 5:45 to get there. Yes, it sucks. Yes, I hate myself every time my alarm goes off. Yes, today I didn't realize I missed the Astor Place subway stop until the train was pulling into Union Square because I wasn't totally awake yet, and then had to practically run down to St. Marks in 5 minutes in order to get to class on time. But God, I feel so good afterward. Yoga is just one of those things that makes me feel healthy and happy and good about myself all at once. It completely wipes my mind by the end, which is something I really need. Usually I'm so stressed out about everything I have to do that my mind runs a mile a minute, so those three minutes of final relaxation are a blessed relief. Yoga to the People actually has teacher training pretty regularly, and I was really tempted to do it until Maddy pointed out that I already have no free time. And due to her practical and true observation, my dreams of being a yoga teacher must be deferred.

So as a quick round-up of the last week or so:-Sonia's friend Nico came to visit from Germany. We took him to Botanica, which turned out to be really fun. It was just a bar, but the ratio of men to women was almost 2 to 1, a phenomenon that seems positively heavenly to any NYU girl. And they were fairly attractive too, even though in general I don't go for hipsters. As Sonia was being chatted up by a sleazy Cornell drop-out who had a girlfriend I talked to this chemist from Hoboken. He seemed pretty cool, but he ruined it all by trying to kiss me and forcing me to drunkenly explain that I think that kissing strangers in bars is a) gross (who knows where those lips have been?) and b) heartbreakingly desperate/cliche, and therefore I don't ever do it. After that I figured that even though I was having a good time talking to him, I should probably give him the chance to actually get laid so I took off to find Sonia and Nico.

-Finally got the Bartok Rhapsody out of the library. It's fun. And easy. I should be finished with it soon, and hopefully Insun will be like "wow she doesn't suck at all, why am I so judgmental to make her play something so clearly below her skill level?" Yes. Exactly like that.

-Yesterday I went to the Greenmarket and found these beautiful rainbow carrot. (The picture above is not of the carrots I bought. it's off the internets). I was too excited to take a picture of those carrots, and immediately peeled them to make saffron glazed carrots. It was the most delicious thing I've eaten in weeks. And so easy! Peel and slice the carrots, then saute them in butter (or butter spray, which is what I use since calories are my enemy), add a pinch of crumbled saffron, some lemon zest, salt and pepper, and a half cup of water. Then just cover and let cook for 5 minutes until the water evaporates. It's from a recipe I cut out of the NYT magazine ages ago, but never made because I thought I hated carrots. Turns out I don't.

-Yesterday as I was walking out of the Kimmel Center a delivery man for All About Food held the door for me."Thank you"- me"You're welcome." (I start to walk away) "Keep that pretty smile. It's a good one."And who says New Yorkers are unfriendly?